


sugarcane

by puny



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, BDSM, Bondage, Comeplay, Cuckolding, Humiliation, M/M, Orgasm Denial, PWP, Sex Toys, Shibari, Smut, Spanking, Spreader Bars, smut smut smutty smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-13 23:06:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4540899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puny/pseuds/puny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sharing is, after all, caring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sugarcane

**Author's Note:**

> behold!!! the most self indulgent piece of filthy filth filth ive ever written

"Too tight?" 

Hanamiya growls, partially because he won't give Kiyoshi the satisfaction of responding and partially because there's a bit gag shoved between his jaws. He can talk, but it comes out embarrassingly muffled — not to mention the drool that he can't stop from dripping out. 

The gag's nothing, though. Not compared to the spreader bar forcing his knees wide open, or to the knotted rope securing his arms and hands behind his back, or to the smooth silicone plug stuffed in him to keep him open. 

Kiyoshi's finishing up the final knots over his wrists now and slipping fingers underneath to check that they aren't hurting Hanamiya, who's facedown and naked on the bed; Kiyoshi's warm and immovable where he sits on his lower back. He ties off one last knot. 

"You look good like this," he remarks, all casual. Slides a hand up Hanamiya's side. "Pretty. It would really be sort of a shame to keep you all for myself, wouldn't it?" 

Hanamiya swallows. 

"So I'm gonna show you off," he says, leaning down to whisper it into Hanamiya's ear. "I invited someone over. A mutual friend of ours."

There's a soft sound. dark fabric goes over his eyes, pulling tight. He can't even see the headboard anymore, and everything's amplified; the knots on his biceps feel tighter, Kiyoshi's breath hot on the side of his face. "Gonna make you guess who it is." 

There's a soft knock on the door. Hanamiya grinds his teeth down on the gag. 

"Come in," Kiyoshi says, getting off Hanamiya. The door opens, shuts. There's a pause. 

"Kiyoshi, you've outdone yourself." 

Hanamiya immediately recognizes the smooth male voice but can't put a name to it. He can't help squirming a little, hot with shame and aware of how completely he's on display now that someone else is in the room. 

"I know," Kiyoshi says, audibly smug. _Asshole._

"May I?"

"Of course." 

A hand touches his thigh. He flinches, but grits his teeth on the gag and doesn't give the stranger the satisfaction of him flinching. The hand strokes, feeling around, and when it gets a good hard grab of his ass the long fingers and drawly voice spark recognition to life.

Mother of God, it's _Imayoshi_.

His embarrassment surges twofold. Makoto's glaringly aware of how helpless he must look, trussed up like a present, legs held open by the bar and ass held open by the thick plug. Ready to be used. Fucking hell, he's never going to be able to meet Imayoshi's eyes on the court again. Those long fingers take hold of the plug, tugging it back out of him; he inhales sharply as Imayoshi blows air over his hole, clenching from the coldness and the humiliation. Imayoshi chuckles, the fuckface, and it's followed by the sound of a zipper. 

"Got anything to say, Kiyoshi?" Imayoshi asks it like they're at a business meeting or something. 

"Yeah," he says from somewhere a couple feet away. "Don't let him come." 

Hanamiya would snap back at that, furious even without seeing the stupid smirks on their faces, but his train of thought crashes at the way Imayoshi's holding his asscheeks apart with one hand as he slides in. Makoto groans without meaning to, absorbed in the hot full feeling as he bottoms out. Imayoshi makes an appreciative noise and begins to fuck him. He's so different from Kiyoshi — steady, sharp thrusts that feel controlled, even, and soon enough they're making Hanamiya moan and his thighs twitch against the spreader, angling his pelvis up for more like the wanton slut he his. He remembers, suddenly, that Kiyoshi's sitting only a couple feet away watching him get whored out. The thought almost makes him come right then, but the lack of sensation on his dick just won't let him and Imayoshi finishes in him with a few hard thrusts. He groans again when he pulls out, frustrated, his whole body burning with need, and when Imayoshi pats his ass and says "well done," he lets out a muffled shout of rage. He's too aroused to even be properly angry, though, just tries to catch his breath as the fuckers exchange pleasantries and say goodbye, see you at next month's match, tell so-and-so I said hello, until fucking _finally_ the door clicks behind Imayoshi. 

"So," says Kiyoshi, "where were we?" 

Hanamiya swallows. He's hazy with how turned on he is, dick twitching in anticipation as Kiyoshi's big hands tug his body backwards until he's bent over the edge of the bed, spread legs hanging off it. 

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" His hand moves down, gently gripping a thigh. 

Hanamiya swallows again. This hadn't been part of the fantasy, but Kiyoshi knows how much he loves a good spanking, and it's just like the bastard to draw this out. He shakes his head no. 

"You did." A gentle pinch on one leg. "And now not only have you been a dirty little slut, but you've also lied to me. Isn't that right?" 

Makoto says nothing. Kiyoshi's huge warm hand is no longer touching him. 

"I said, isn't that right?" 

Slowly, he nods, the gag rubbing against the sheets. 

"I'm glad we agree," Kiyoshi says in his pleasant, even tone, and smacks Hanamiya on the ass so hard he sees stars. 

The sting is sharp and hot as Kiyoshi spanks him with his wide palm, pauses between each to rub the burning skin beneath. Each impact makes Makoto yelp from the jolt of arousal the pain sends through him; his erection feels red-hot lying against the sheets. Kiyoshi hits him two dozen times, maybe more, until Hanamiya's lost count and is practically writhing for more, anything, just to be _touched._

"Had enough?" Kiyoshi asks. He sounds just fine. 

"Yes," Hanamiya hisses around the bit gag, _"come nnn."_

He can hear Kiyoshi slicking his own dick up. He takes his time, running those huge rough palms across Hanamiya's still-red ass, his thighs, brushing the knots round his biceps. Plays a little with Hanamiya's hole, swirling Imayoshi's come with his fingertip, testing how loose he is and pouring more cold lube down his crack. Hanamiya clenches his teeth on the bit until they ache as much as his neglected cock. He feels himself burn in anticipation as Kiyoshi leans over him, dick resting against his asscheek. The bigger man hooks two fingers in the back of the blindfold, pulling Hanamiya's head up uncomfortably until his ear is at Kiyoshi's lips. 

"You won't beg yet, will you?" 

Hanamiya snarls, more drool dripping onto the sheets. 

"Mm." His voice is more rumble than words. "We'll get there." 

He starts pushing in, punishingly slow even though he knows Hana's plenty ready and gasping for it. Hanamiya's thighs jerk against the spreader as he slides all the way home. Kiyoshi stops.

"Now you ask for it." 

Hanamiya fucking mewls, pinned and bound and stuffed, and he would do anything to make Kiyoshi start fucking him properly right now but he's holding as still as a statue and there's nothing Hanamiya can do except strain at the ropes round his arms. Christ, Kiyoshi's huge. Hanamiya's face is bright goddamn red and his dick harder than it's probably ever been as he swallows and mumbles around the bit: _"prethe."_

"Good whore," Kiyoshi says, smile audible in his voice, and Hanamiya moans like an amateur AV star as he pulls out and thrusts back in again. It's too slow but it's good, it's so fucking good, and it gets better when he speeds up and fucks him like he means it and Hanamiya can't do a single thing except lie there with his thighs held wide and take it. He burns with it, heat spiking deep every time Kiyoshi bottoms out and rubs his prostate. He barely registers the tiny fucked-out noises he's making, closer and closer to the edge, until Kyoshi fucking _stops_ again the _fucker_ he's going to fucking _kill him._

"What's wrong?" he asks, all fake concern even though he's panting. Hanamiya lets out a half-choked scream of frustration. Kiyoshi starts moving again in slow-motion, fucking Hana at a millimeter a second. "Too fast for you?" Hanamiya sees white behind the blindfold because Kiyoshi knows perfectly goddamm well he likes to be fucked into oblivion and instead he's giving him this — this incremental drag of that huge cock against his asshole, and it's the most unsatisfying thing in the world and he's so turned on the fury makes him desperate. 

"Beg." 

"Fuh me," he says, practically sobbing, because he's still moving at that unbearably slow pace. "Plathe—" 

"Tell me." He sounds rough, barely holding himself back. "Who owns your ass?" 

"You," he gasps, "you," because he's too far gone for shame and then Kiyoshi's fucking him for real, balls hitting Hanamiya's taint as he pounds his spread-open ass. Kiyoshi fists a hand in his hair and grips it hard as he slams into him, thrusting sharp and fast as Hanamiya writhes through the crest of his orgasm. He can feel himself convulsing around Kiyoshi, still moaning as his final thrusts sink home and his teeth fix on Hanamiya's shoulder. 

Coming takes forever. He jerks and shudders through it, twitching around Kiyoshi's width. 

He groans long and low and wrung-out as the heat finally subsides. Kiyoshi weighs heavy on his back, kissing the aching spot he'd just bitten, and he'd tell him to fuck off but he can't find his tongue. 

"You okay?" Kiyoshi asks, pulling out. 

"Mmngnh," Hanamiya says, or something similar, distracted by the sensation of come dripping out of him. Kiyoshi does his stupid insufferable chuckle and Hanamiya's too fucked-out to even be mad. He leaves briefly and returns, wiping the jizz and lube off Hanamiya with a wet towel. 

He's wobble-boned and limp, too exhausted to jab Kiyoshi with an elbow as he cleans him up. Sweat cools on the small of his back and the nape of his neck as Kiyoshi's big, calloused hands nimbly undo the knots round his wrists and biceps, rubbing feeling back into them as he goes. Keys jingle as the thigh spreader is unlocked. Hanamiya's hip cracks as he rolls over; it feels incredible to sprawl on the sheets after being held in position for so long. The gag comes out of his mouth aching jaw and Kiyoshi's thumb wipes a stray drip of spit off his chin. He takes the blindfold off last, sliding it off with careful hands. 

Hanamiya cracks an eye open. Kiyoshi's got a faint sheen of sweat, chest flushed as he drops the blindfold somewhere beside the bed. He's woozy enough to let Kiyoshi flop onto the bed and slide close, wrapping a stupidly muscular arm around his chest. It's sweaty and disgusting and too warm and Kiyoshi must have fucked the common sense right out of him because it feels good, he feels good, wrung out and floaty and heavy and euphoric. 

"You did good," he breathes against Hanamiya's ear. 

"I know," he mumbles, halfway asleep. 

Kiyoshi rumbles with laughter and has the gall to lay a soft kiss on top of his head. He'll kill the douchebag fuckface for that tomorrow, Hanamiya swears, already slipping dreamily into sleep.


End file.
